Wow...where to begin? Blake and I had our 14 week appointment with Dr. Solberg. Difficult. I can't tell you the intense emotions leading up to walking into that office, sitting in that waiting room, and being escorted back to the room to begin appointment. My body was shaking, and my heart was pounding. I had intense anxiety. I could tell Blake was really nervous too. As I walked back the hall at Capital, I remembered October 17, 2011...I was wearing black capris with a baby blue top...I had a HUGE smile on my face, and I was so ready to deliver Bentley, only to discover 10 minutes later Bentley had passed. This appointment although I've been trusting God with everything--filled me with that same anxiety. I tried to laugh while joking with the nurse, but I just couldn't relax. Blake was sitting in the examine room waiting for me, and I entered and read his face. He was just as nervous. We waited a few minutes for Dr. Solberg to enter the room, and it really hit me. He looked into my eyes with that deep stare that I remember that day. I couldn't look at him. I kept trying to not make eye contact, but he kept pulling me back to make eye contact. When I made eye contact, I just cried. I just sobbed because I remember that face, that face that told me the worst news of my life. I know it isn't his fault, and I don't blame him--he's associated with the worst day of my life. Do I wish that? Nope, do I hate him? Nope, there's nothing I can do to change that. I hope that as time passes it will be easier....but it is just so difficult.
One thing though Dr Solberg did allow us to get an ultrasound at my 14 week appt though which made my day because we got to see that baby #2 finally has a name...and his name is CHASE because he's a BOY!!!! :) Good thing of the week! :) It was definately bittersweet though. Blake and I had always wanted boys, but it is very difficult too. We want Bentley to be here. We want both our boys to grow up together. I just wish we would have Bentley here physically to share all these emotions, but I know that he is watching over us in heaven. I know he's in heaven saying that's my parents and that's my baby brother. He's dancing in heaven.They probably had a party, although, I truly believe every second of everyday is a celebration. I'll write more later...Blake and I have a busy weekend. We are moving, so we will be in and out...it will probably be an emotional weekend because of packing Bentley's stuff to move into our new place. We are planning to reuse most things, but we have set aside some things that we plan to memorialize thi
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Most days I have felt so exhausted or talked out enough during my work week to actually come home and write in my blog. It's bad. I need to put more of a focus on writing in my blog because it really does help to address and sort my emotions. I can also say that addressing those emotions also have become more difficult. It is hard to explain the grief and anguish that I deal with everyday with losing Bentley, and the excitement and happiness that surrounds baby #2. Grief and happiness are two VERY different emotions that affect us so differently. There are many days that I feel like I just need to be sad. Sad all day. All night. But, then I feel, "wow, God has blessed me to become pregnant again--why am I not happy?" It is a constant battle between anxiety, happiness, sadness, sorrow, anticipation, and every other emotion at once. Have you ever felt so many emotions at one time that it just is plain exhausting? It is a daily mind battle. It's so many emotions that makes your head spin, and it becomes difficult to worry about anything other than your daily routine.
A routine--that is our life. We get up, we go to work, we come home, we watch tv, and we go to sleep. Here and there our routine consists of shopping or running errands, but we do the same things day in and day out. We don't really plan too far ahead. We don't really stress or worry about the things in life. You know why? It is plain stressful. I should have Bentley here with us. We should be sleep deprived because we are up all night taking care of Bentley. I should have a crying baby in our arms right now, but instead we are indeed sleep deprived. We are sleep deprived because we lay awake for hours on end just reliving our worst nightmare. These aren't bad dreams or hallucinations--they are reality to us. Nothing is life is easy. No decision is simply. No action is made unless we contemplate numerous outcomes prior to deciding. Another reason why it is continually hard to disclose all my thoughts and feelings and our journey through grief is because NO BODY UNDERSTANDS unless they've walked in our shoes. I know that I state that over and over again, but it is so true. It becomes so difficult to express our heartache when everyone around believes that this pain should stop or we should continue to move on. Blake and I have been moving forward, but we will never move on. I will forever mourn Bentley. People just don't understand. I didn't just lose Bentley on October 17, 2011. We lose Bentley everyday. Everything in life gives us a memory. A memory that we don't have, and we never will get. I ask everyone who has a child...think of those special moments that you've had. Think of those special moments that you are looking forward to. Think about if you lost your own child. How would you feel? Would you cry every second that you realized your hopes and dreams came crashing down? Would you instantly be "over" you child? Would you long to have those moments back that you did have your child for? Would you continue to long for your hopes and dreams with your child? Well, Bentley may have lived for 38 weeks inside of my belly, but he WAS a child. He wasn't a ball of cells. He was a living human growing baby whose life was cut short. His life was cut shorts, and Blake and I were robbed of every dream, hope, and desires that we had for Bentley and our life. We are parents who lost their baby--a baby who we never heard cry or laugh or even simply see his eyes open. I will never get those memories that every other parent gets. And, yes I may get them with baby #2, but it does NOT change the fact that Bentley is still going to be missed. I can't tell you how many times people want to tell me, "well, you're pregnant again--you'll get those memories" or "just wait". Well, you know what? I"VE BEEN WAITING!!! I wanted Bentley. I want Bentley. I will forever want those memories with Bentley. Blake and I can have 10 children, and I will ALWAYS long for those moments with Bentley. So, hello, people you aren't going to change that. Another thing lately that has become so difficult is sharing the news of being pregnant with everyone--mostly people that I don't know. Oftentimes, people will say, "Oh, this is Stephanie...she's expecting her baby soon" or whatever the conversation starter might be. Well, it leads people to often ask, "How many children do you have? or is this your first"? Urgghh! I hate this question. I hate really telling the world that I'm pregnant, but I love telling the world too. So difficult. I hate watching the look in people's eyes when they learn that this is my 2nd child, but I have Bentley living in heaven. I hate the look of pity. I hate the sad look in their eyes. My reality is a nightmare, and I live it everyday. This reality is what Blake and I have to carry for the rest of our lives. Tomorrow will be one year from the day that I found out I was pregnant with Bentley. It was one year ago tomorrow that I called Capitol Women's Care and said, "I think I'm pregnant. The line is really faint, but I think I am pregnant". lol. :) I was so happy. :) I can't even describe that moment. Tomorrow is also 4 months from the day that we buried our precious Bentley. The 17th, 18th, and 24th of every month are always so difficult. I feel that they will always carry that sadness. We are left with dates to remember...I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I just want Bentley here... Urgh, another month has almost passed us by. Tomorrow is February 17th, and obviously, the following day is the 18th...I hate those days each month. They are always so difficult. I know we can't pass by them, but I sure do wish that I could blink my eyes or wiggle my nose, and they would magically be gone. But, hey, if we could do that, then let's go back to the 17th, and let's change that appointment. Let's just go back and make his heartbeat, and change the outcome of this all! I so wish! I wish that more than anyone will ever understand.
Lately, I really have slacked on writing. I have tried to write numerous blogs in the past week, and I just can't bring myself to sit down and write. It isn't because I don't have things to say because I certainly do. I certainly have had good moments and bad moments in these last several months. I have had blessings and I had storms. I really don't know how I got to this "4 month mark" without God. No lie. I think about my days, my weeks, and my months, and realistically...what do I see? I see time passing. I see accomplishments, but I really see time just passing. Most days I am either counting down to an important date wishing it would just pass us by or I am counting down til our next appointment. I miss the days where I genuinely enjoyed life. Hm, I don't even know what that means. Yes, I laugh and I smile, and I do things that Blake and I enjoy doing....but at the end of the day, if I could have Bentley....I'd do ANYTHING to have him here in our arms. And, I know many people are probably thinking--Steph, it's been 4 months or they are surprised by my grief because I am currently pregnant. BUT, YOU KNOW WHAT.....I WILL BE GRIEVING MY ENTIRE LIFE. AND, BEING PREGNANT DOESN'T TAKE THE PAIN AWAY. I will never be over our son. Bentley will always hold my heart. I know that there will days that I laugh or cry or maybe I'll do both at the same time, but I KNOW that I will forever grieve for Bentley. Lately, I have really felt the disconnect between MOST of my friends. I have people who pray and support, and honestly, they are the people who have become my friends. But, my phone doesn't ring. It doesn't flash with text messages. My inbox fills with messages from strangers or from those who have experienced the loss of a child. It isn't the people who've been there my entire life (with the exclusion of a few). My friends that were so ready to have Bentley arrived...walked away. I feel like most days Blake and I have been plagued. We didn't only lose our son, Bentley, but we lost way more than that. We lost hopes, dreams, friends, family, our "normal" life. We lost and will continue to lose a lot more than what people realize. It's funny because the people I thought would be around...have ran far far far away. Is something suddenly wrong with Blake and I? I get the fact that we don't have the same laugh or same smile or maybe there are days we are sad...but a simple "hey, how you doing?" or thinking of you....or maybe a slight memory of Bentley....or maybe just ANYTHING at all. But, nothing. The majority of our friends and even family...NOTHING. To be honest, I don't even know why I write about this because it's something that mothers and fathers who lose a child deal with everyday. Mothers and fathers who lose a baby suddenly turn into people that your friends are either scared of or they just don't care. Not too sure why. I'm still a person. I KNOW that if my friend was going through something like this....I'd be there in a heartbeat. I may not have the answers, but I'm not looking for answers...I'm looking for a friend. We are looking for a friend. I appreciate those who have been, and I am thankful for the time people were there right afterwards...but the longevity of everything and continuing to be my friend in the long haul means so much more to me than showing up for a week or two after we buried Bentley....parent's who lose a child need friends/support for the rest of their life. There is no time frame to grieve. There are book defined stages of grief, but you know what...it's mostly bull crap. You experience your stages all differently, and then sometimes they start again....so parent's who lose a child need people forever...and it isn't always having to talk about it...we aren't plagued, we can discuss other things in life. Just be there is all a parent wants....I found this link...and it's oh so true. Check it out. http://www.corasstory.org/2012/02/free-ebook-when-friends-baby-dies.html I wish all my friends read this... Bentley, mommy and daddy love you oh so much! I found myself sitting in the lobby of the hospital today waiting for Blake to pick me up for our Wednesday Hospice appointment. I hate the lobby, but I often find myself there, and typically not by having to be in the lobby, but by choice. Weird, huh? Well, today I sat there waiting for Blake, and I just sat back, and I watched everyone. I closed my eyes, and it all started happening. I remember pulling up to the front of the hospital. Sharon had dropped Blake and I off. Everything was moving in slow motion. My mom was standing right inside the hospital doors, and she was meeting me at the revolving doors. Those revolving doors is a destination I'll never forget. Blake and I stumbled through those doors only to discover we'd never leave that hospital the same. We would never leave those doors without those memories of the way we entered the hospital on October 17, 2011. I sat on a bench today, and I pictured myself...I was wearing a blue short sleeved shirt from AE with a tank top underneath. I had on my black capri sweat pants from New York and Company with my Old Navy flip flops. I had tears streaming down my face, and I just remember constantly saying "This can't be happening"...over and over again.
I watched that today. It was like it was happening real life. And, I stared and stared at those revolving doors. Those revolving doors symbolize so much to me. It was a chaotic movement. It was life still spinning on. It was time standing still. It was a worst nightmare continuing to play over and over, around and around. Once inside the lobby, I hear my mom yelling at any volunteer or hospital employee she says, screaming, telling them to get me a wheelchair. I was in shock. I felt like I couldn't walk, but yet I was walking. I felt so numb, so alone. But, we were surrounded by so many. It was like a movie, kinda like walking down the busy streets of New York City. There was so many people with so many agendas, but I was surrounded by everyone, yet no one knew the pain we carried. No one knew that we just learned that our precious son Bentley was dead. It really seemed that even once explaining it was important to get to a room ASAP...no body moved with urgency. Time creeped by so slowly, and it was so loud in that lobby. Today I sat in the lobby. The lobby appeared to be quiet in reality, but in my mind, it was SO loud. Everytime I walk in the lobby its loud now. It all starts. I can't walk through that lobby without hearing my mom screaming, Blake and I crying, and the constant chatter as we rushed to Labor and Delivery. Those moments are so vivid. I see them as I type this blog, but when I stand in that lobby--it literally begins again. Some may ask why do you continue to go to the front lobby if it brings so much pain? I go stand in that lobby because I feel that moment, honestly, I need to feel that moment. It may sound odd, but there are days that it doesn't feel like I lost Bentley. It feels like that is far to horrible of a nightmare for it to be our reality that I need slaps in a face.I need those moments where it is so real. The tears form, and my heart begins to race. I stare at my surroundings, and it's difficult. It feels like I'm sitting back watching my horrible nightmare happen over and over again. That lobby is a chaotic place for me. It can be completely quiet, and I will forever hear yelling and chaos. Sitting in the hospital at work...makes me sit and take a step back. I think about those moments. I stare at hospital doors and patients rooms. I glance at families when they learn their loved ones don't have much longer. I watch people come and go. I see doctors deliver good news and bad news. I understand the patients pain. I understand the families pain. I sit a the nurses station, and I picture myself sitting in that bed. I see our friends/family surrounding my hospital bed. And, it's very difficult, but it is needed. I don't want to forget those moments in the hospital. I don't want to forget the images. Do I want to have horrible nightmares and anxiety? No, but I don't want to forget because those memories are very real to me. They aren't something that I want to become numb to. I can't become numb to it because they are the emotions and events that surround the birth of my precious Bentley. They are the moments that I need when life plays with my mind. I am not kidding. Mind tricks are the worst. I have to talk to myself some days and literally say, Stephanie, this is not happening right now. And, I tell myself the date, and I replay it all in my head. And, it isn't because I'm crazy or losing my mind. It is normal for a family who has lost their son--for Blake and I to express different emotions. I can be happy and sad at the same time. I can be a millon different things at the very same moment simply because grief messes with every aspect of your life. Blake and I will never be the same. Many may wonder why I write so vividly about our journey. Some may believe that my blog is too much or that I should keep things to myself. I have had people tell that yes, this is awful that we are going through it, but I was told everyone doesn't need to know about it. And, I'll be honest, the people who believe that we do not need to talk about or discuss it--they are wrong. Blake and I HAVE to talk about it. We need to verbalize our emotions. We barely have outlets. Outlets where people understand and can empathize. We have each other, and we have families who have been through this experience. There are many people praying and supporting us and we couldn't do it without them, but I can tell you there are many who just want to compare and interject where they are not needed. I don't need opinions or justifications for what happened. I don't want people to formulate a medical anaylysis of what they think happened. I want people to just let us feel how we want to feel. I want to be able to talk about Bentley and not have to see that horrified look in people's faces. I want to be able to share our feelings without having the hear how someone else feels too. There are times that I just don't plain care about anyone else's problems. Other people's issues are not mine; therefore, Blake and I have decided to take steps backwards. I don't need extra stress, so we are focusing on Blake and I's life. We are focusing on our little family, and we want whats best for us. We don't need to think about everyone else...we need to ensure that we are in a healthy environment for Blake, Baby #2, Bentley's memory, Bailey, and myself. God is going to provide, no matter what. We just have to trust God. He has been carrying us. He has picked us up and one set of foot prints has been walking this journey because Jesus truly has c God has truly blessed Blake and I with the privledge to meet so many great men and women in our lives Day after day I have been given the opportunity to meet another family who has gone through the loss of pregnancy or a child shortly after being born. These people...I'll be honest, I wish we were all meeting under better circumstances, but I can tell you that God has placed each person in our lives for a purpose. It is so mind bloggling that Bentley's precious little life of 38 weeks has truly reached as many people as it has. Everyday I receive messages, comments, friend request--from people all over the WORLD, not even just this area--the WORLD. And, these people have read Bentley's story. And, most of these people have experience a loss. They have walked in our shoes. They understand our pain. We all carry that same heartache. We struggle with those empty arms. We are all robbed of our treasure--our precious children. It is a pain that we are all too familiar with, and it plain sucks. There are no words, but I am blessed that I have people that understand and support us. I don't know where we would be. I truly thank God for them. They are a constant reminder that people are surviving. They are not forgetting, but they are living our worst nightmare--our reality.
I have been asked by someone at the hospital to share our experience with losing Bentley. She teaches and leads conferences and trains people on grief, but they learn from a book. A book that tells you the stages, and what one should feel. This book gives you pointers, and this book gives you a synoposis of how someone should be coping. What better than first hand experience?!?! There is nothing better than someone who has experienced it. She would like to know from my perspective along with Blake's. We are going to discuss from those initial moments that we learned Bentley had passed and to the present. She asked, and I quickly responded by "of course, I'd love to do that". She responded by telling me that she didn't want to cause us pain by asking that, and I just smiled. I said talking about our experience is definately difficult, but there is nothing I'd rather do than to ensure that my precious Bentley is remembered and that he is talked about. I want people to ask about him. I want people to know him. I want people to understand. We also agreed to talk to the doctors, nurses, and entire staff of Capitol. Some may think WHY? Why bother...many may feel, Steph, it's over. What good will it do? But, I can tell you that there's a lot of good it can do. Parents and families often are silent about pregnancy loss because its such a hush hush topic. It is something that no one wants to talk about because who wants to acknowledge that these awful things happen? Well, guess what...I'm sharing my experiences--good and bad. If there was something that could have made our experience better...I am going to share it because then just maybe somebody else won't have the same issues. And, if it's good then I want the staff to know that they need to keep doing it because the SIMPLE things in life are what gets people through pregnancy loss. It isn't something big and elaborate. It isn't huge gestures. It's the simple things like using Bentley's name. It's telling me that you're here for us or praying for us. I don't think many people understand that simple concept. Laugh with me when I'm smiling. Cry with me when I'm crying. Don't offer me words of wisdom--tell me it sucks. But...gotta get going to Blake's basketball game...Bentley MOMMY AND DADDY MIS Man, this cold has really landed me on my butt! This past week been fighting it day in and day out! Last night I spent the entire evening coughing and hacking up this nasty stuff. And, having more bad dreams! Then, finally around 8am-10-15ish I got some sleep! It was some pretty good sleep for those two hours though! I am really hoping that tonight will be better! Prayers much appreciated for kicking this cold's butt!
So, today we went to visit Bentley's grave. We added his Valentines Day stuff. I love visiting Bentley, but I hate when it is time to go. I hate when we have to walk away. It is always so difficult. I know that Bentley isn't in that grave, but he is in Heaven, but it is still so hard. It's so hard because I hate that we are left with a stone, a box, empty arms, pictures, random items..blankets, and toys never used. I want smiles and laughs and tears. I want dirty diapers and sleepless nights. I want everything that comes with being a mom. So, leaving his grave is always a reminder. A reminder that is what we have....I look forward to the day that I will hold Bentley in my arms again. That moment will be indescribable. I hold onto the hope that there will be a day that I will see Bentley again, and it will be the best day of my life. I want that day that our family picture will be complete--that moment that we are all together... Today I started scrapbooking....I know hell may just freeze over. I never have been a big one to scrap book, but I wanted to do this for Bentley. I know that it's important because I don't have Bentley to take care of so I want to do something for him. I want to show my love somehow, some way. I'll show the pages that I have done already at the end of the blog :) I really don't have much to say right now. I just miss my son. I miss Bentley so much. He brought so much joy in our lives. He literally was/is the reason I start and end a day. He is my little boy. My shining star. He's my angel. I hold him close to me in my heart...and I'm never letting go.. Just somethings that are hard to hear... "you'll be a mom again" "God took Bentley from you" "I hope you have better luck next time" These are just a few, but let me start with the 1st one....I AM A MOM! And, 2nd...God didn't take Bentley. He allowed this to happen, yes. But, God isn't someone who does things to purposefully hurt people..somehow someway his name will get glorified. And, 3rd "better luck next time"...seriously? Can we just not even use words like this? I am trying to stay positive here. I'd appreciate it if everyone else would too... It's difficult to hear people tell our parents, well maybe one day you'll be a grandparent. They ARE grandparents. And, my grandparents...they have FOUR great grand kids...they have Logan, Cooper, BENTLEY, AND Baby #2..... I can easy that question very easily! NO!!!! Bentley died. He died 3 months ago. I learned the worst news of my entire life on October 17, 2011. My life hasn't been the same since. My nightmare began at that 4:30 appointment. At that appointment, I was ready to learn that labor was going to be nearing, not that my nightmare has just begun. I was anxious to hold my precious Bentley, but I wasn't prepared to hear those words. Who is ever prepared to hear those words? I don't know anyone that can be prepared to hear those words that your child's heart has stopped beating before you even get to welcome them into the world.
Our world took a turn for the worst that day. Now, granted we have survived, but I can assure it--it is a daily struggle. It is a continuous effort to put our feet on the ground each and every morning. There are many days that I would rather lay in bed. There are some days that I just want to cry all day. Some days I am scared; other days I am happy. It is a mind game everyday. When you a lose a child, and inparticularly a child that you haven't met...when you welcome your baby with a hello and a goodbye in one breathe--it shakes your world. It changes any sense of normalcy that you thought you once lived. At those moments of times, there is no turning back. There is no time to contemplate who you are going to be. You become a person who goes through life doing a routine. You become an individual who automatically assumes the worst or lives life on the edge. When Bentley passed away, I became a different person, and Blake became a different person. We don't live life naively any longer. It's a life that I don't wish upon anyone. I am so thankful that we have God on our side. I am so thankful that we can rely on Him to carry us through, but i can tell you that there are still struggles. There is still floods of tears, and my heart still aches. My heart longs to hold Bentley again. My brain contemplate how our lives would be right now. I literally wish I could go back in time and change this outcome. But, I know I can't. I live with the hope that I will see Bentley again though. I will see him Heaven. Bentley is not in the ground. He isn't at his grave. His body is there, but his Spirit will live on forever with Jesus. And, it will be the most glorious day, and it will be a moment that no words can describe. I live for that moment. Everything that I have decided to do in life...I'm doing it for Bentley. He is my motivation for everything. Bentley has made me a better person, day by day. It is because of him that my heart continues to live. It is because of his life that so many people have come into mine. This last week has been rough. It has been rough because I've experienced so many different emotions. Emotions are fear mostly. Emotions of "what if". I am just going to say this....I've had this awful chest cold. The last cold and only cold that I had during my pregnancy with Bentley was that week leading up to his death. Now, I KNOW that Bentley passed away because of the cord. I know that it was nothing that I did. But, my mind plays tricks on me. This is why...I often think "what if" I would have just gone to the doctors instead of called....I called and they told me to take tylenol cold medicine, blah blah blah....I often think what if I would have pushed to come to the office. What if I would have asked for a sonogram. Would they have seen the cord? Could I have delivered Bentley and he be here with me? Now, I know that anyone can sit back and question life. But, my mind plays games. It makes me wonder those things, and it really messes with my head. I know that there was nothing that I did, but as a mother...I just wish I could have prevented it. So, now that I have this cold...I pretty much been driving myself crazy until we went to the doctor's appt today. It was so relieving to see this life growing inside of me, but it also is so bittersweet. I wish that I had Bentley here with me while carrying baby #2. :( Is that wrong of me to wish? NO! I hadn't had any nightmares in awhile...until last night. And, this one was bad. I was dreaming, and it wasn't really a dream. It was my reality. It was October 17, 2011 and the events of that day began from the beginning. I heard those words, Stephanie, I'm sorry Bentley's heart isn't beating" over and over and over again in my "dream". I literally awoke yelling in my sleep. :( I hate this. I hate that my "dreams" are my reality. This is what I live with |
AuthorWe are going through a very difficult journey-My husband (Blake) and I (Steph) lost our baby boy at 38 weeks. His name is Bentley Charles Nalley. This is a blog to help sort out our grief and express how we feel. Archives
June 2015
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